Bedroom Conversations
by arliddian
Summary: The development of Kitty and John's relationship, through a series of conversations in the bedroom. Spans pre-X2 to post-X3.
1. Chapter 1

**Bedroom Conversations  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Summary:<strong> A series of conversations between Kitty and John, in the bedroom. Chapter 1: _Kitty has a nightmare and finds out the hard way who has the room below hers._ Pre-X2.  
><strong>Timeline:<strong> Will span pre-X2 to post-X3.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All things recognisably X-Men aren't mine - I just like making up my own stories.  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Originally written in 2006. There are 9 chapters in this, part fluff and part angst. This first chapter is pretty fluffy.

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

_She ran as fast as she could, phasing through everything in her way, hoping that by running through walls she could stall whatever was chasing her. But it was gaining on her, and her legs were burning with pain. Kitty could almost feel the creature's hot breath on her neck, and she stifled a scream, not being able to afford the release of air. A clammy hand clamped down on her shoulder and she shrieked, phasing through the floor to escape..._

Kitty fell on something with a soft _thump_ and opened her eyes, looking around wildly. It took her a few minutes to get her bearings, still upset by her nightmare.

She realised that she was sprawled on a bed, and it wasn't her own bed. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room, and she noticed that it wasn't hers.

Scrambling off the bed, she stood in her pyjamas and tried to figure out whose room she was in. Who had the room beneath her?

Her question was answered for her when the door opened and John Allerdyce flicked the light on.

They stared dumbly at each other for a moment, surprise written over both of their faces. It was John who recovered first, flicking his lighter with a smirk on his face.

"Y'know, if you wanted to get into my room, all you had to do was ask."

"I..." She shook her head, and her voice faded. The images of her nightmare were still vivid in her mind, and the feeling of being _hunted_ hadn't gone away. Before she could stop herself, a tear slipped down her cheek.

John swore and crossed the room to her. "Jeez, Kitty, I didn't mean...what's wrong?"

"I...I had a..." She tried to get the words out, but her throat felt strangely tight. "I'm scared," she finished in a whisper.

Wordlessly, he grabbed the chair at his desk and placed it next to his bed. "Sit down," he told her. He reached over to place his lighter on his bedside table, and then stretched out on the bed, hands under his head.

Kitty obeyed and focused on steadying her breathing, aware that John was watching her. She blushed, feeling embarrassed at having phased into his room in the first place, and now acting like a frightened little girl in his presence. She didn't want him to think that she was some silly little kid. So far, though, he had been strangely _nice_ to her. Not at all as sarcastic as he usually was.

"So," John said once she had calmed down a little. "What's gotten you so spooked?"

"I had a nightmare," she answered with a shiver. "Something was chasing me, and when I woke up...I was here."

"Fair enough."

There was silence again. Kitty glanced over at John and saw that his eyes were closed.

"Uh, John?" she said tentatively.

"What?"

"Why...why are you just letting me stay here?"

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Do you really want to be alone?"

She shook her head, blinking wide eyes at him.

"Well, that's why." John rolled onto his side so he could see her properly. "I know what it's like to get scared and have nobody there."

"Thanks," she said softly. She wanted to ask him what could possibly have ever frightened him, but decided against it. A smile crossed her lips. "And thanks for not making any stupid jokes."

"What, about you being such a scaredy-cat?" he grinned. Kitty laughed, pulled the pillow out from under his head and whacked him with it, kneeling up on the chair.

"Shut up," she said, trying to glare at him, but failing completely.

"Make me," he replied, and he grabbed the pillow and pulled. Kitty lost her balance on the chair and tumbled onto the bed as John rolled out of the way.

She phased the pillow out of his grasp and used it to swat at him again, still laughing. Then she dropped it on his head and lay back, tucking her hair behind her ears.

John pulled the pillow off his face. "Move your head," he said to Kitty. She complied, and he replaced the pillow underneath them. They sank back and lay there in silence.

"Are you okay now?" he asked after a while, managing to sound genuinely caring and bored and tired all at the same time.

"Yeah," she answered. "I think I'm okay to go back to sleep."

"Turn the light off when you leave, then," he said, closing his eyes again.

"Okay." Kitty slipped off the bed and padded over to the light switch. "Thanks for not leaving me alone," she said as she flicked it.

"Anytime," came his reply.

She smiled and began to rise up to the ceiling.

"Oh, Kitty," said John, making her pause and look down at him.

The smirk on his face widened as he said, "I always knew you'd share my bed someday."

Kitty blushed and phased quickly back into her own room. Something told her that, although he had been joking, there was some element of truth in his words.

There were no more nightmares for her that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Bedroom Conversations  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Summary:<strong> A series of conversations between Kitty and John, in the bedroom. Chapter 2: _John and Kitty talk about their favourite pastimes._ Pre-X2.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All things recognisably X-Men aren't mine - I just like making up my own stories.  
><strong>AN:** I requested conversation topic ideas on livejournal when I wrote this fic. The suggestion used here was 'dancing'.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

John sat on the floor by his window, reading a book by the moonlight. He knew that reading in the dark was a great way to screw up his eyesight, but he liked the half-darkness and shadows that made his flames flicker brighter.

A muffled thump sounded from above him, and he glanced at the ceiling, wondering what the hell Kitty Pryde was doing up there in her room.

_Whatever,_ he thought, turning back to his book. _I'm sure she'll tell me all about it tomorrow._

Since the night when Kitty had phased into his room after having a particularly bad nightmare, John had noticed her being even friendlier towards him than usual (which, for Kitty, was quite an accomplishment). And to his surprise, he found that he enjoyed her attention. If he were to be really, truly honest to himself, he would admit that he was attracted to her – but John tried to avoid soul-searching wherever possible, so the issue hadn't surfaced.

Lately she had been sitting next to him in the classes they shared together, and had begun to open up a little to him. She'd also accidentally fallen through to his room once more, after another nightmare.

So all in all, he wasn't entirely surprised when she phased through the ceiling onto his bed.

"Hey, John," she greeted him.

"Hey," he answered, shutting his book. "What was it this time? Nightmare? Spider? Axe-wielding lunatic?"

He could see her poking her tongue out at him. "None of the above," she replied, sitting up. "I couldn't sleep, and I just felt like some company."

John raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't you have girl friends to gossip with?"

She rolled her eyes. "I can only take so much girl-talk. Plus, I knew you'd be awake and have you seen Jubes when she's woken up? She's like Oscar the Grouch."

He snickered at the mental image of the Asian girl with green fur and a pet worm. "Okay, fine, you can stay. But only for a while. You don't want to be around if I don't get enough sleep."

"Thanks."

There was a short pause, and then John asked, "What were you doing up there? I heard a thump. And I know you well enough to know that you weren't getting horizontal with some guy."

A warm blush spread across Kitty's cheeks. "John!" she protested.

"Hey, I said I knew you _weren't_."

"I was dancing, okay? I tripped," she said with dignity.

"Dancing?"

"Yeah."

"Without any music."

"Well…yeah." She blinked at him. "Haven't you ever tried it?"

He laughed outright until he caught a glimpse of her expression. "Oh, you were being serious. I don't dance, Kitten."

"Really? It's one of my favourite pastimes."

"Oh yeah?" he said, getting up and tossing his book onto the desk. He walked over and lay down on his bed next to her.

"Yeah," she said, shifting over.

"What kind of dancing?" John slid his lighter out of his pocket and began to snap it open and closed.

"Jazz, ballet, tap, hip-hop…anything, really. I just like to move."

He sniggered. "I wouldn't have picked you for a hip-hop girl."

"Well, every other Saturday I have a hip-hop class. You can add that to the list of things you didn't know about me."

"I'll do that."

Kitty stretched her legs out and looked down at him. "So what do you do on weekends?"

"Burn things."

She rolled her eyes. "I mean _besides_ that."

John thought for a moment. "I don't know. Read, I guess. Sometimes I write."

"Write? What do you write?" she asked as she lay on her side, propping her head up on her palm.

He shrugged, flicking his lighter. "Things."

"Wow, so specific," she commented wryly. "Come on, tell me. Stories?"

"Yeah."

"Poetry?"

"I guess."

Kitty grinned. "_Love_ poetry?"

John glared at her. "Kitty, get real. As if I would ever write that mushy crap."

"I bet you do," she teased. "And I bet you use all the clichés in the book. 'Roses are red, violets are blue' and all of that."

He rolled his eyes. "Trust me, if I ever write a love poem, it won't have all that sap. It's pathetic. And 'roses are red, violets are blue'? Give me a break. That's not real poetry. Sonnets are _real_ poetry."

Kitty began to laugh, a pleasant, bouncing sound that filled John's ears and made him want to join in – except, of course, that she was laughing _at_ him.

"Oooh, John writes lovey-dovey sonnets about a special secret girl!" she exclaimed.

John whipped the pillow out from underneath their heads and walloped her on the head. "Get out of here, Kitty. Let me get some sleep. Go back to your room and stop accusing me of being a pussy."

"I'm going, I'm going," she grinned, getting up. "I don't want to get burned. Good night, John."

"'Night." He watched as she ascended into her room, and reached over to place his lighter on the bedside table.

Suddenly, Kitty's head poked back through the ceiling.

"John writes mushy sonnets, John writes mushy sonnets!" she sang.

"Get lost!" He threw his Zippo at her head, and she withdrew, laughing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Bedroom Conversations  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Summary:<strong> A series of conversations between Kitty and John, in the bedroom. Chapter 3: _Kitty helps John study, and wishes on a star._ Pre-X2.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All things recognisably X-Men aren't mine - I just like making up my own stories.  
><strong>AN:** I requested conversation topic ideas on livejournal when I wrote this fic. The suggestion used here was 'wishes'.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

"You know, John, paying attention in class might seem like it's optional, but if you actually want to do well, it's compulsory," Kitty said with an exasperated sigh.

"I'll keep that in mind," John muttered from his seat on her bed.

They had a Physics quiz the next morning that would count for twenty percent of their grade, and typically, John was failing the subject and had not been listening in class all term. Kitty had been spending the night helping him, quizzing him and letting him copy her notes, which was what he was doing now.

She looked out the window and gasped softly. A shooting star was shimmering its way across the sky. It was beautiful, and her seat at her desk afforded her a clear view.

"I wish that John does well on the quiz tomorrow," she murmured quietly, eyes following the star's path.

"What?" John said, pausing and looking over at her.

"Nothing," she replied with a smile. "Just wishing on a star."

He arched an eyebrow. "You still do that?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

"I gave up on wishing on things a long time ago, Kitten. Wishes don't come true."

"Oh." Kitty turned back to the window, but the falling star was out of sight. John resumed writing.

"What about birthday candles?" Kitty asked suddenly.

"What about them?" he responded distractedly, peering closer at her notebook.

"Well, they're on fire, and I know you believe in fire," she said. "Do you wish on them when you blow them out?"

"I don't blow out candles. I light them," John said. He frowned at her book. "Kitty, what the hell does this say? I can't read your writing."

She left her chair and sat beside him on the bed, leaning over to read the notes she had made. "It says 'The force of static friction is always greater than the force of sliding friction, which is greater than the force of rolling friction'."

"Right." John scribbled it into his own notebook.

"You do get what that means, right?" she asked him.

He gave her a withering look. "Yes. I do."

"Just checking," she said, smiling. She watched him write down the rest of her notes.

"Finally done," he announced, throwing his pen down. Before Kitty could say anything, he added, "And yes, I _will_ remember all of this, okay?"

"You'd better," she replied teasingly. "I don't want to have wasted my whole night for nothing!"

"Whatever, Kitty. You liked it. You think that _Physics is fun_!" John said the last three words in a ridiculous falsetto, mimicking an earlier statement she had made.

"Well, it is," she defended.

He looked at her, slowly shaking his head. "There's no hope for you." Suddenly, he reached up and his thumb brushed her cheek. The touch of his thumb on her skin sent a vague tingle through her body, and she felt her heartbeat quicken. He pulled his hand away and laid something flat on his palm, holding it up to her. "Eyelash. Blow it away, make a wish."

Kitty gently blew on his palm, silently making her wish. She looked up at him and said, "I thought you didn't believe in wishing on things."

A corner of his mouth lifted in a beautiful half-smile. "I don't," he replied. "But you do."

Her lips curved, and tentatively touched his cheek. "Thanks," she whispered.

The space between them seemed to melt away until finally – _finally_ – their lips met in a soft and gentle kiss. It was Kitty who deepened it, wrapping her arms around John's neck and pulling him closer.

They broke apart for air, and gazed at each other.

"So," John said. "What did you wish for?"

"Something like this," she answered, leaning in and kissing him again. "See? Some wishes do come true."

"Kitty," he said in a low voice that made her shiver.

"Yeah?" she whispered as he leaned towards her.

"That was one of the corniest, most clichéd lines in the history of the world."

She burst into laughter and slapped his shoulder. "You're a moment-killer!" She glanced over at the clock on her wall. "Eleven-thirty! We'd better go to bed, or we won't remember anything we've gone through tonight."

"Fine." John lay back and shut his eyes. "Good night."

Kitty rolled her eyes. "John, as much as I like you, you're not sleeping with me." Then, realising what she had said, she flushed and brought her hand to her forehead. "Did I just say that?"

"Yep," he answered, smirking. "And I wish I'd recorded it."

She groaned. "You are forbidden to repeat that. Ever."

"You're ruining all my fun!"

"Okay, you really have to go now," Kitty said, still blushing. "Do you want to do well on the quiz? Go!"

"I'm going." He got up, grabbed his notebook and pen and walked to the door, Kitty following behind. He paused and turned to her, a wicked grin on his face. "You sure you don't want me to sleep with you?"

"John!" she exclaimed, looking utterly embarrassed. He leaned down and kissed her again quickly. "Okay, thanks," she said, rolling her eyes but smiling all the while. "Now go!"

He sauntered out and Kitty watched him until he was out of sight, a wide smile on her face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Bedroom Conversations  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Summary:<strong> A series of conversations between Kitty and John, in the bedroom. Chapter 4: _One night before the invasion of the mansion, Kitty and John talk about their mutant powers._ Just before X2.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All things recognisably X-Men aren't mine - I just like making up my own stories.  
><strong>AN:** I requested conversation topic ideas on livejournal when I wrote this fic. The suggestion used here was 'powers'.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

"Rogue was kind of upset today," Kitty said to John as they lay on his bed in the dark.

"So?"

"She really wants to be able to touch people, especially Bobby." She sighed and turned her head to look at him. "I can understand that. Wouldn't you hate it? Not being able to touch anyone? It would be a bit like…like me being permanently phased."

John said nothing, and she rolled to her side, propping her head up on her hand.

"Could you imagine that?" she asked him. "Every time I tried to touch you, I'd just go straight through." To demonstrate, she reached out and phased her arm through his chest.

He shuddered. "You know I hate it when you do that."

"I know." She settled down again in the crook of his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm glad I can touch you."

"So am I," he said, tightening his arm around her.

"Poor Rogue…" Kitty murmured thoughtfully. "She told me today that a lot of the time she wishes she was just…human."

"That's stupid."

"Stupid? Why?"

"First of all, we can't change our DNA, so it's impossible. Secondly, why would any mutant want to be _human_? There's a reason why they call us _homo superior_."

"Well, if your power screwed up your life, you wouldn't want it anymore." Kitty was quiet for a moment. "Do you ever wish you had a different one?" she asked.

"No," was John's short response.

"Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have telekinesis," she mused. "You know – be able to control objects and move them instead of being able to pass right through them." There was a pause, and she moved closer to his body, saying quietly, "Sometimes I feel a bit like a ghost."

"I wouldn't want anyone else's power," John said. "Bobby's is too damn cold. Jubilee can't do anything useful. Cyclops has to wear those dumb glasses. I'm fine with manipulating fire. I just wish…"

"What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Never mind."

Kitty pushed against his chest and sat up. "Don't do that. Don't shut me out."

"I'm not shutting you out. Couldn't if I tried."

"You _do_." She sighed and took his hand. "Tell me things, John. Don't keep it all to yourself. I tell you pretty much everything."

"I'm not _like_ you, Kitty, okay?" he burst out as he sat up, sounding frustrated. "I don't just go and tell anyone how I _feel_ and what I _think_."

"I'm not just anyone. I'm _somebody_, and sometimes it's like you look straight through me." Kitty said softly.

She was answered with silence. Hurt, she let go of his hand and shifted away a little bit.

"Kitty…"

"Do I even mean _anything_ to you?" she said, concentrating on not crying.

He moved over to her and cupped her cheek in his hand. "Yes," he whispered fiercely. "You do. I just…I'm not a _talker_."

Kitty gazed steadily at him. "I don't want to feel like a ghost, John. I want to know that I'm something _real_ to you. Tell me what you were going to say before."

John let his hand drop from her face and ran it through his hair. "I was going to say that I wish that I could create fire. Not just manipulate it. And I want to be able to _use_ my power. See how much I can handle."

"Isn't that…wouldn't that be kind of dangerous?"

He gave a bitter chuckle. "That's what Xavier says."

"I wouldn't want you to get hurt, John."

"Hurt? How would I get hurt?"

Kitty shrugged. "Just...just don't take on more than you can handle." She glanced up at the ceiling. "I should probably go back to my room."

"Fine."

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. "You don't need to be able to create fire to be all that you can be," she said, looking at John over her shoulder.

He half sat up and pressed his lips to hers in a hard, searing kiss. "And you're not a ghost, Kitty."

"I know," she said softly. "Good night, John."

John watched her climb up to her bedroom, unaware that it would be the last time he saw her for a long time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Bedroom Conversations  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Summary:<strong> A series of conversations between Kitty and John, in the bedroom. Chapter 5: _Sometimes, Kitty lies on John's empty bed and imagines having a conversation with him._ Post-X2  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All things recognisably X-Men aren't mine - I just like making up my own stories.  
><strong>AN:** A super-short, angsty interlude before we move on to the post-X3 timeline.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

She has more sleepless nights now, and the nights when she does manage to fall asleep are interrupted by nightmares in which masked soldiers shoot at her and John disappears with a rush of flame. Dr Grey is in her nightmares, too – Kitty wasn't there when she died, but she sees the water folding over her intelligent teacher, crushing her and dragging her down.

Sometimes, when the dreams cause her to phase into John's old room, she just lies there on his bed and remembers when he was around.

She thinks about their conversations and the way he kissed her before they separated for the night. She thinks about how he always made a sarcastic comment just at the moment she wanted to be serious. She thinks about the way his arm felt around her body.

Nobody ever catches her lying there in John's room, because nobody goes inside except her. Not even Bobby will go near his room – they're all still angry with him for abandoning them and defecting to the group who had been responsible for almost killing Rogue and the entire human race.

Kitty's angry, too. But mostly she just misses him and their late-night conversations.

Sometimes when she's sprawled on his bed, she'll imagine having a conversation with him. It would be about something normal and stupid, like Disney movies or art or lame pick-up lines or whether cats are smarter than dogs. She whispers her side of the discussion and imagines what he'd say in response.

It's not the same – it never is. But she keeps doing it, irrationally hoping that one day she'll phase through his ceiling and he'll be standing there, ready to participate in the conversation.

She knows that what she does is a little bit crazy, and she tries as hard as she can to be normal. In the daytime, she hangs out with Bobby and Rogue and Jubilee and Piotr. She does her homework and studies diligently for her exams. She trains hard, learns hand-to-hand combat with Logan, and goes to her dance classes. She tutors a few of the younger students and talks to Mr Summers, who hasn't been the same since he got back. She misses Dr Grey as much as everyone else does and spends hours reminiscing about her with her friends.

But at night, she's given over to her nightmares and lonely thoughts. At night, Kitty talks to the ghost of a memory, crying on John's bed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Bedroom Conversations  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Summary:<strong> A series of conversations between Kitty and John, in the bedroom. Chapter 6: _John's back, and Kitty wonders why he left in the first place._ Post-X3  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All things recognisably X-Men aren't mine - I just like making up my own stories.  
><strong>AN:** When I wrote this fic, I asked for conversation topic ideas. The suggestion here was for them to talk about why John left.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

Kitty barged into his darkened room without knocking or even opening the door. Startled, he scrambled off the bed and to his feet.

She had to consciously remind herself to breathe.

"You're…you're back," she said shakily, inwardly cursing herself for not planning out something to say before bursting in.

"Yeah."

He wasn't exactly the same as she remembered – his hair was different, he was wearing enormous boots, there was no lighter in his hand. And though it was dark, she could see that something in his face was different. It was harder, sharper. There was a hollowness in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

Kitty couldn't think of anything to say. She had spent long nights lying on his bed, imagining him there, but now that he was back, she was struggling to keep a grip on her overflowing emotions – anger at his betrayal, joy at seeing him alive, fear of the man he'd become, and the residue of her feelings for him.

"Did you miss me?" John asked, tilting his head slightly and folding his arms, trying to look and sound like his old, sarcastic self.

She stared at him and felt tears building in her eyes. "Yes," she whispered, raw and honest.

His arms fell limply to his sides and they gazed at each other, openly and blankly.

"Why did you leave?" she asked in a quiet, solemn voice.

John let out one short breath of harsh, humourless laughter. "What do you want me to say, Kitty?" he spat, turning and stalking to the window. He leaned his palms on the sill, posture angry and defensive. "That I was forced? Brainwashed? 'Lost my way'? Don't be so naïve, _Kitten_."

"I want the _truth_," she said, still rooted to the same spot on the carpet. "I deserve at least that much."

His shoulders sagged and he seemed to deflate. When he turned around again, she saw once more that deadened, hollow look in his eyes.

"Tell me why you left," Kitty whispered. She let the '_me_' at the end of the sentence hang unsaid in the air.

"You wouldn't understand," he muttered, glancing away.

She finally found the strength to move and crossed the room; standing right in front of him and forcing him look to at her. "Try me," she challenged.

John narrowed his eyes. "Fine," he growled, leaning back against the window frame with crossed arms. "I left because I wanted to."

"_Why_?"

A faint gleam shone on his face, a strange, faraway expression. "Magneto gave me what I wanted. Freedom, power…you have no idea what it was like. I wasn't just some dumb kid following orders. I wasn't his lackey. I was _somebody_. I was fighting for something worth fighting for."

"Oh yeah? What was that?" Kitty asked, defiance and bitter sarcasm sharpening her voice. "The death of humanity? A reputation for mutants as terrorists?"

"I was fighting for us!" he yelled, seizing her shoulders and shaking her. "Our race! What, you think we should have just let them _cure_ us, like we were some _disease_?"

"Of course not!" she yelled back, submitting to his painful grasp. "But we aren't _better _than them either! We have no right to –"

"Why do you think they call us _homo superior_, Kitty?" He released her abruptly and she shrank back, rubbing her shoulders. A bitter, choked laugh escaped his lips. "We _are_ better than them."

A chill ran down her spine as she remembered similar words, spoken to her when they had been in this same room, lying warm on the bed together. "No we're not. We're the same. Our genes make no difference. We're all still _people_."

He laughed again. "You and your precious X-Men still believe that crap? That everyone's good, and we'll all live happily ever after in a world of rainbows and sunshine?"

She sent him a piercing gaze. "I believe that everyone has the potential to do the right thing."

He realised that she was going to lecture him. "You're so –"

"Shut up," Kitty cut him off sharply, and he fell silent. "Just shut up. You don't get to tell me I'm wrong for believing what I believe. You don't get to tell me _anything_." She clenched her fists and drew a shallow, shaky breath. "You screwed up. You screwed us over and left your friends and teachers to die at Alkali Lake. You killed innocent people. You tried to kill almost everyone I care about. You don't get to pretend that you're right and I'm just some naïve kid."

Her voice was low, but John was taken aback by the force of her words. He had never seen her so angry before.

"You have no idea what it did to us when you left," she hissed. "We didn't just lose Dr Grey. We lost you. Bobby lost his best friend, and I lost..." Kitty trailed off, struggling to find the right words. "I lost someone I could have fallen in love with."

The past tense stung John more than it should have. He had spent long hours in the Brotherhood telling himself that leaving her behind had been the best thing to do, that her feelings for him had been constricting and confining him. He had convinced himself that whatever she felt for him had been ruining him. But to hear her say that she could have _loved_ him was more than he could take.

"I _waited_ for you," she whispered, angry tears drowning her irises. "And now you're back, and everything's different. _You're_ different. You're harder, angrier. You're a _criminal_. You aren't John. You're just _Pyro_, and I don't think I can wait around for you to change again."

"So leave, then," he said loudly, finally finding his voice. He needed to stop her from saying anymore, needed to push her away before she ripped her way through his last defences. "Get out of my room."

"I'm going," she bit out, turning away abruptly. John couldn't help noticing how her shoulders were trembling. As she walked to the door, she threw her last words to him without looking back. "But while you're sitting in here waiting for your precious _Brotherhood_ to break you out, think about this: _we_ were the ones who came back for you."

And then she was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Bedroom Conversations  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Summary:<strong> A series of conversations between Kitty and John, in the bedroom. Chapter 7: _John tries to apologise._ Post-X3  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All things recognisably X-Men aren't mine - I just like making up my own stories.  
><strong>AN:** When I wrote this fic, I asked for conversation topic ideas. The suggestion here was 'apology'.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

John crumpled up a sixth sheet of paper and swiped it off his desk with a frustrated sigh, sending it to join its brothers on the floor. He stared down at his pen.

For the past several hours, he had been trying to write a note to Kitty. It had been almost a week since she had burst into his room, and since he was all but confined to his room, he had had a lot of time to think about everything she'd said and everything he'd done.

He missed her. He missed her smile, her petite figure, the way she spoke, the way she knew him so completely that it scared him. He missed the warmth of her body lying next to his.

The problem was that he hated missing her. Part of him still considered his feelings a weakness, and he hated being weak. But she had forced him to remember everything he had given up and every stupid decision he had made. She had made him realise how much he had hurt her and how much he needed her.

And so he was trying to write her a note, a letter, _something_ to explain himself. Something that expressed how sorry he was for hurting her and the way she made him want to try to atone for the things he had done. But all his words looked hollow and stupid on the page.

"There are only so many ways to say 'sorry'", he muttered, ripping a seventh page out of his notebook. He scribbled three words on it and headed up to Kitty's room, checking to make sure nobody saw him.

John stood outside her door, staring down at the paper in his hand.

"_Kitty –  
><em>

_ Sorry._

_ John._"

The tiny words looked ridiculous at the top of the sheet, so he tore off the blank half and stuffed it in his pocket. Carefully, he folded up the note and slid it under her door.

He waited restlessly for a minute, hoping that she would open the door for him, but nothing happened. So he trudged slowly back downstairs to his room.

When he opened the door, he was startled to find Kitty lying on his bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling, his note clenched in her hand.

"Kitty?" he said uncertainly, taking a few hesitant steps towards her.

"Sorry for what?" she asked quietly.

There was a lengthy pause. "Everything," he said finally, his voice sounding too loud for the almost silent room.

Kitty turned her head towards him, still gazing blankly – but John thought he saw a flicker of compassion and genuine _feeling_ pass through her eyes.

"I need time," she told him wearily. "Everything's – everything's different. You've changed, I've changed…" She trailed off and slowly pulled herself up to a sitting position, hugging her knees to her chest. "I just want everything to go back to how it was," she finished in a whisper.

John felt uncomfortable standing there, doing nothing but look at the girl he used to laugh with in the late hours of the night. She was right – everything _had_ changed.

"I need time," she repeated.

"I thought you couldn't wait around for me anymore," he said, sounding more sarcastic than he meant to.

"I thought I couldn't either," she replied. "Turns out I don't have any control over it."

He moved forward and perched awkwardly on the end of his bed, noticing that Kitty drew her knees closer into her body like she was afraid of touching him, despite the distance between them.

"So what happens now?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "I don't know," was her honest answer. "I want it – us – to be like before. But I don't know if I can trust you."

He couldn't think of anything to say, because he knew she was right. He wasn't sure if he could trust himself. No matter how forgiving the X-Men had been, staying at the school was not something he intended to do – and he knew that she would need him to stay.

A minute of awkward silence passed, and for once, John didn't care.

"Are you going to say anything?" Kitty said at last, staring with hollow eyes.

He shrugged, a gesture that looked more like _no_. "I think it's all there," he said wryly, pointing to the piece of paper in her hand.

Something sad flickered in her eyes, but she nodded and slid off his bed, pausing as she walked by him.

"I never really gave up on you," she told him.

He watched her phase up into her room.

"I know," he murmured to his empty room.


	8. Chapter 8

**Bedroom Conversations  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Summary:<strong> A series of conversations between Kitty and John, in the bedroom. Chapter 8: _Kitty has bad news._ Post-X3.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All things recognisably X-Men aren't mine - I just like making up my own stories.  
><strong>AN:** When I wrote this fic, I asked for conversation topic ideas. The suggestion here was 'if this was your last day, how would you spend it?'

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>

He was sitting next to the window, watching the cold moonlight stripe across his hands. _Prison bars_, he thought wryly, letting his head fall back against the wall.

There was a soft _thump_ as something landed on the bed, and he didn't need to look up to know that it was Kitty. But something was off – he could hear her breathing, and it was ragged and shallow.

"What's going on?" he asked, getting up and sitting next to her on the bed.

She uncurled and used his arm to pull herself up to her knees. There were dried tear-tracks on her face, and he resisted the impulsive desire to trace them with his fingers.

"I don't want to be mad at you," she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth with no signs of slowing down. "I don't want to not trust you. I don't want to leave the world thinking you're a bad person, because I know you're not, but part of me still thinks you are. Don't let me down, John, don't let me die not being able to trust you."

"Die? What the hell is this about, Kitty?" he asked, a sharp attack of fear and confusion making his voice sound too loud and angry.

Kitty kept rambling, ignoring his question. "What would you do if today was your last day on earth? Every day is so precious, John, and now they seem even shorter…If today was my last, I wouldn't want to spend it away from you. I need to be okay, I need _us_ to be okay, I need you to tell me that you're not going to betray us again, because if my last day is coming up soon, I need to be strong. And I can't be strong if I can't trust you."

He gripped her shoulders, forcing her to focus on him. "Kitty. _What is going on?_"

She stopped and blinked. "There's a virus," she said in a whisper. Two wide brown eyes filled with tears as he stared into them, and she fell forward, crying into the base of his neck, hands fisting in his shirt.

John felt like Bobby had just iced up his blood. "What virus? Are you…are you sick?" _Don't be sick. Please don't be sick…_

He felt her shake her head against him, and he relaxed in relief, holding her tightly as she wept. When the shudders had subsided, he gently lifted her chin.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

His tenderness seemed to surprise her, and for a moment everything felt like it used to – just the two of them together, no anger or fear or pain.

"There's a virus," Kitty repeated. "It attacks the mutant X-gene, and there's no cure. Some of the kids are already infected. Jubilee…Jubilee's really sick." She gazed up at John with moist eyes. "She's been my best friend since I came here," she finished.

"Sorry," John said, almost cringing at how hollow the two syllables sounded. He _was_ sorry. Kitty had already lost too many people she cared about. But he realised that no matter what he said, it would still sound hollow.

"So am I." She gave a deep, shaky sigh and leaned her head on his shoulder, flattening her palms against his chest. He was surprised at how easily she fit into him, like nothing had ever been between them. He was surprised at how she still felt so _right_.

"Tell me I can trust you, John," she murmured in a voice that cracked through his defences like a frozen arrow. "Tell me you've changed. Tell me everyone's wrong when they say you're too far gone." Kitty looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Tell me that if tomorrow was my last day on earth, you'd be with me."

John swallowed hard. It would be so easy to tell her what she wanted to hear – but he wasn't sure if she could trust him. He wasn't sure he had changed enough to be what she needed. And he couldn't just _lie_ to her – she meant too much for him to make promises he knew he couldn't keep.

"John, _please_."

He stared down at her desperate face and knew that this was all she was clinging onto while her world fell apart – her blind faith that he had changed. She was clinging onto _him_.

"You can trust me," he said with difficulty, the words feeling foreign as they slipped off his tongue.

Even as she tried to smile and slid her arms around his neck, he knew that she knew his statement was neither the truth nor a lie. He could tell that she was holding on to one last hope, a hope precious enough to ignore the flaws.

Kitty stretched up and pressed her lips to his in a soft, desperate kiss.

"I don't want to be alone tonight," she whispered hoarsely.

John nodded and let her lie back, lying down beside her like he used to.

"If tomorrow was your last day on earth," Kitty murmured. "How would you spend it?"

He thought seriously about it and answered, "In freedom, as far away from here as possible." He'd wanted to say "_With you_", but his tongue refused to weaken and say it.

She paused and said, "I'd want to spend my last day with the people I care about." And the unspoken "_With you_" neither of them could say hummed in the silence between them.

They lapsed into silence, and he tried not to move until he heard her breathing become deep and even.

He didn't know what to do now – he hated being a prisoner in the mansion and he didn't want to be around while people he'd known and been friends with once got sick and died. He didn't want to know that Kitty was depending on him to keep her from falling apart. And yet, knowing that she still cared that much about him made part of him want to stay for her. Like it or not, he'd made a promise that she could trust him, and he couldn't easily break a promise he'd made to her.

He gently rolled to his side and stared at the moon shining through the bars on his window.


	9. Chapter 9

**Bedroom Conversations  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Summary:<strong> A series of conversations between Kitty and John, in the bedroom. Chapter 9: _It's John's turn to give bad news._ Post-X3.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All things recognisably X-Men aren't mine - I just like making up my own stories.  
><strong>AN: **This is the last chapter! Thanks for reading, and an especial thanks to those of you who reviewed. More Kyro one-shots are coming soon, so add me to your author alert list if you want to read more of what I've written. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

_This is going to bring me clarity  
>This'll take the heart right out of me<br>~ She Is – The Fray_

John figured it out five hours before they told him, and made his mind up five seconds after that. As soon as they finished talking, he turned and headed straight for Kitty's room, thankful that nobody tried to stop him. He guessed that they figured he probably couldn't do any more damage to the school, not now.

He hammered on her door and it opened immediately.

"John, what are you doing here?" she asked him in surprise as she let him in. "I thought you weren't allowed to…"

"Kitty," he cut her off, standing awkwardly in her room with his hands jammed in his pockets. "I…" He stopped and took in her appearance – shadows under her eyes, hair unkempt and messy, face looking thin and gaunt. The exhaustion from helping in the med labs, tending to Jubilee, was taking its toll on her.

John cursed at himself under his breath, angry for not being strong enough to just _leave_. Instead, he was going to end up hurting her more than if he'd just left without saying goodbye. She was already going through hell; he was about to add more flames.

"What is it?" she asked him, peering worriedly at his face for a sign of…something.

"I need you to get me a lighter or a box of matches, whatever. And I need…I need you to help me get out of here."

"_What_? _Why_?"

John ran his fingers through his hair and tried vainly to think of a way to spare her the truth. But nothing came to him, and he knew he needed her help. She wouldn't give it to him without a reason – a _real_ reason. And he needed to tell her in order to bring himself some clarity and some truth to their messed-up relationship.

"I've got the Virus."

There was nothing but shocked silence.

Kitty stepped back and shook her head violently. "No. _No_." Her voice sounded squeaky and broken. "You – you can't. This is just some sick joke, right? _Right?_"

John narrowed his eyes at her. "Would I joke about something like this?" he said harshly. "I'm sick. I'm _dying_." _I'm dying._

"No," she whispered, tears forming in her wide eyes. _He can't be dying, he can't be dying, he can't…_

He couldn't stand her looking at him like that – like he meant more to her than he had thought he did. Turning away, he asked, "Look, are you going to help me or not? I have to get out of here, I can't stay."

"_Why not_?" she asked, clenching her fists.

John turned his fiery gaze back on her. "I'm _dying_, Kitty!" he burst out furiously. "I'm dying, and I'm not wasting whatever's left of my life stuck here like a worthless _prisoner_!"

The words seemed to unfreeze her, and she flung herself at him, tiny ineffectual fists beating at his upper body.

"No, you can't leave me. You can't leave me!" she screamed at him through her sobs. He caught her wrists and she struggled against him, trying to hit him again, but he held on firmly. Finally, she gave up and collapsed against him, weeping and trembling.

"You can't leave me," she repeated over and over again, muffled against his shirt.

He let go of her wrists and held her, struggling to keep his heart from cracking and releasing all the emotion he so carefully set aside. Her reaction had given him one more reason to stay, but he knew that leaving was the only right thing he could do.

"Don't leave," Kitty whispered, staring up at him. "Don't go. Please."

"You really think I'm going to stay just to let you watch me die?" He shook his head. "I told you before that if it was my last day on earth, I'd leave. I made my mind up a long time ago."

"Things are different now, aren't they?" She was pleading now. "Please, John. I'm already losing my best friend. I can't lose you, too." She let a hand slide up to his cheek, fingers shaking. "I love you."

And there it was. The three words he'd been afraid she would say – three words that could be his undoing. She loved him, and he knew he loved her enough to want to give her everything. But he couldn't give her what she wanted, couldn't hurt her that way.

"If you loved me, you'd let me go. You'd help me leave," he said, inwardly cringing at the cheap shot, disgusted at the way he was using her. "You're going to lose me anyway."

"Then why bother telling me?" she demanded angrily, phasing out of his arms. "Why not _go_ and hurt me just once?"

"Because I couldn't leave knowing that you'd hate my guts!" he snapped. Why did she have to make this so hard? He cupped her face and leaned down so he was looking straight into her eyes. "I couldn't leave without saying goodbye first."

Kitty lunged forward and kissed him ferociously, lips bruising and desperate.

"Don't go," she begged. "The Virus…we'd have at least a month. A whole month."

"Kitty…"

"I can't let you die alone," she whispered, beginning to cry once more. A desperate gleam came into her eyes and she clutched his upper arms with trembling fingers. "I'll come with you. I'll look after you, wherever you're going, just take me with you."

"No." He detached her hands from him and moved away from her. "You belong here, Kitty. I don't. Never did."

"You do," she protested. But he could see that she knew he was right. He had never really belonged at the school. He had never really belonged with _her_.

"Come on, Kitty," he said, looking and sounding pained and tired. "Just help me. Please."

It was the _please_ that got to her. John Allerdyce had never been a beggar or a pleader – Kitty couldn't remember the last time she'd heard him say the word. And that single syllable was all it took for her to realise that he _needed_ her to help him leave as much as she needed him to stay.

Wordlessly, she slid into her closet and emerged a minute later clutching something in her fist. She pressed it into his palm, and his fingers curled around the familiar metal of a lighter.

"Where did you get this?" John asked her, recognising it as one of his old ones. When he had been living at the mansion, he'd kept a small collection of lighters in case he misplaced his shark Zippo. He never ended up using them.

Kitty's smile was sad as she gazed at the lighter in his hand. "After you left, I…sometimes, I'd phase down into your room. I kept it before they packed up most of your stuff, just in case."

John's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Thanks." He slid the lighter into his pocket and looked back at Kitty.

A tear escaped down her cheek as she moved forward and embraced him. As he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, he felt them both become intangible, and a few moments later they were standing on the ground level.

Kitty pulled away and took his hand, leading him through the last wall, and together they walked through the garden and out the gates.

John glanced back at the school just once.

"Look after yourself, Kitty," he said, and turned to leave.

She pulled him back and kissed him one last time, long and soft and bittersweet.

"I love you," she whispered thickly, blinking rapidly to keep from crying again.

John hesitated. "I love you too," he murmured finally.

And she stepped back and watched him disappear into the night.

_Love is watching someone die  
>So who's gonna watch you die?<br>~ What Sarah Said – Death Cab for Cutie_

_Fin_


End file.
